Solving the Girlfriend Problem
by justonemoreartist
Summary: Modern AU one-shot (initially: I've caved and decided to continue) of g!p, trans Elsa: Anna is incredibly happy to be Elsa's girlfriend, really. It's just that she's missing a few things in her life and feeling frustrated. And when Anna is frustrated, she decides to do something about it, using an interesting means. Contains Elsanna.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

Reflection-verse final fic is not coming to me, and apparently when I can't write one fic I write g!pElsa/Anna. Except this time I dithered away at the beginning like crazy because for some reason I usually have a hard time writing smut unless it's at least somewhat plausible. Apologies in advance if you were looking for a quickie. The inspiration for this came up on Pandora, so it gets a shoutout here. All changes to the original lyrics are from Anna utilizing them for her own purposes: the astute will notice the differences. Also I have proven that once again I can't name things for shit. Sorry.

**Content Warning:** Describes sexual acts between two consenting adults, discussion of gender identity issues. There is also some swearing. You have been warned.

**Solving the Girlfriend Problem**

Anna was frustrated.

She set her Pandora station to "Thinking Music" and brooded.

She had more than a few things to be thankful for. Nice apartment, cushy 9-5 job, quiet, or at least, respectful neighbors, and of course, Elsa. Sort of. Which was the whole problem, really.

Not that Elsa was a problem: far from it! She was great, really great. Elsa was whipped cream on the tip of her nose that Anna tried to lick away while she pulled back, giggling. Elsa was delicate hands smudged up to the wrist with pencil, little bits of eraser stuck to the fine hairs on her forearms, her fingers drumming against the tabletop as she considered angles and weight distribution and aesthetics all at once, the sketches growing like twisting vines across the paper. Elsa was warm nights filled with drowsy, stupid conversations about nothing at all that would be half-remembered in the morning over eggs and coffee. She was long legs and gorgeous hips and arching eyebrows that could tempt any woman into sin.

And yet here Anna sat, completely sin-free. But hardly by choice. What exactly was the problem?

Okay, so Anna had some idea. The problem had popped up more than once.

"You've got your trouble face on."

Anna threw an arm over the back of her chair and leaned over, yanking one earbud out. "My what?"

Elsa didn't even look up from her toothpick model. "And now you've got your angel face on."

"Probably because I'm so pure at heart." Elsa just snickered and put a little glue on the side of a toothpick, pressing it flush against another one. Anna eyed her current creation, a cathedral, estimating it at around ¾ complete. She'd asked her once about why Elsa didn't just use computer models when examining her blueprints in 3D, and had learned that whereas Elsa had begrudgingly learned to do just that for the sake of her career, she preferred to work with her hands, and this was her playtime. "There's something about working with the real thing, you know?" she'd said, and then launched into a story about building this enormous tanker ship as a kid out of Legos, and while Anna was sure it had been fascinating she'd spent most of it just watching the way Elsa moved when she spoke, so animated and free, her hands gesturing excitedly whenever she kept shifting in her seat towards Anna. That was their third date, and the third time Anna had ever left a date at her door without so much as a peck on the cheek.

"Very pure. So innocence. Much virginal."

Anna groaned and shoved the earbud back in, turning around. "Stop that: it wasn't funny when other people did it, and it's not funny now."

"Highway to Hell" began playing. She stuck her tongue out at the screen.

She stared irritably at the Word document, silently willing the words "Anna Lillian, associate reporter" to suddenly begin breeding wildly, filling the page with line upon line of text. Clippy blinked innocently at her. Elsa thought he was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen, but Anna liked having her own little cheerleader when she wrote.

"Anna Lillian, associate reporter, queen of the omelettes, princess of late-night karaoke, and duchess of sexual frustration." She held her finger over the Delete key until the words disappeared. She probably couldn't submit that, even if her job _was_ to report the truth. Mr. Weselton would probably laugh for all of five minutes and then fire her ass.

It wasn't like she didn't know how to deal with the good ol' itch: man had already invented the vibrator, thus catapulting civilization into modern times in the sexiest way, and Anna was a modern woman, hear her roar. "Ribs McJibs" had a special place in both her heart _and_ her loins.

But she kinda sorta maybe _really fucking_ wanted to share that lovely feeling with someone. A specific someone. A someone who was currently trying to pull stray hairs out of the side of her mouth with her pinky, pulling a face that was simultaneously cute and hot.

Which, again, was a problem.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She'd nodded instantly, and Elsa had sighed and wrung her hands together, her shoulders hunched, not meeting her gaze. "I know it's kind of unorthodox, but then, well…so am I, so…" Anna had grabbed her hands and squeezed them reassuringly. "I am totally, 100% cool with this."

Her and her stupid fucking mouth.

She'd told herself, at the time, that having Elsa as a girlfriend, to have and to hold until death or opposing football teams do you part, was far, far better than just letting her go, where she would either be snatched up by some other lovestruck fool (Anna was nothing if not completely self-aware) or go join a nunnery. Which was all right for God, but c'mon, Anna was only human; there was no way she could give up wonderful, talented, occasionally snarky, goes to bed with the covers on and gets out with them at the bottom of the bed Elsa.

It wasn't like she'd really lost anything when Elsa had moved in, either. Yes, the toothpaste got used up more quickly, Anna's "Fern Gully" DVD had been stuck under Elsa's drawing table for four months before either realized it was there, and Anna had a sneaking suspicion that her cleverly hidden stache of chocolate was the victim of covert raids, but everything else had been a plus. She now got to wake up beside a warm body, one that didn't complain at all about drool or bedhead (but did refuse kisses until she'd brushed her teeth) cuddle beside someone as they watched cooking shows, taking a shot at every tablespoon of butter used (Anna had nursed a month-long grudge for Paula Deen after a particularly bad hangover) and hold hands with a gorgeous woman as they walked to the library, where they often split up, Anna picking up books on how to write, how to write good, and how to write well, and Elsa avoiding the LGBT section like the plague, drifting over to the historical fiction when Anna wasn't looking, as if it was some guilty pleasure. When they were together, though, they tended to pick up soundtracks to musicals: she had fond memories of blasting "Wicked" songs as the two of them lip-synched on top of the coffee table. The poor thing probably wasn't long for this world, but it'd been worth it.

Vienna Teng was singing about hearing her upstairs neighbors 'moving furniture around'. If only.

Elsa hadn't touched her once.

Well, okay, that wasn't true. Elsa hugged her, caressed her hair, snuggled into her stomach when they crashed on the couch, and kissed her with every inch of her being, which was a lot. She laid her head on Anna's shoulder when they sat on the balcony and watched the sun sink beneath the tops of the buildings, and Anna knew now to wait until she'd stopped nuzzling before she laid her own head on Elsa's soft blonde hair. Her hands stroked her cheeks, held her sides, and massaged her shoulders, sending little electric shocks along Anna's hungry skin.

They just didn't do anything besides that because Elsa, who wore ankle-length skirts to work, who once called Anna in from the front lines of the gentrification story she'd been pursuing to engage in a deadly battle with a spider, who _actually, _not ironically, drank tea with her pinky out, who always sat with one pale, shapely thigh crossed over the other, who insisted there was a difference between "verdigris" and "teal", had a penis and was more than a little sensitive about that fact.

Or maybe she was insensitive? It'd explain some things.

Like how Elsa could talk happily to her parents, spending hours describing her day, and how she was doing in the big city, and how much she missed them and couldn't wait for Christmas or New Year's or some other time when they could be together, even though Anna was certain that they still had boxes filled with boy's clothes that "Elton" had long since grown out of. Or how she had been quietly banned from more than one trans discussion board for talking about how much she wanted to meet and talk to other people with "genetic errors" like hers ("Have you ever heard of Klinefelter's?"): not that she'd ever have the guts to do the same to a face-to-face group. Elsa could be stunningly blunt, hidden behind a computer screen or text, as confident and focused as her designs were, her pencil drawing dramatic lines without hesitation. Or even how she could put that ugly thing on every day, to keep her equipment snug against her, insisting that while she wasn't interested in ever mutilating her body (her first warning on TransFriends) there wasn't any reason she couldn't appear to be the woman she was at heart. Anna had done a good deal of reading on her condition, and had learned that apparently Elsa was a) pretty well endowed, if she was allowed to say, b) the odd one out, in that usually the boys that grew up slender, with wide hips and some breast development, became men with mastectomy scars and poor prospects for facial hair, not women who put their forks down gently when they were done eating, their elegantly manicured nails painted whatever color Elsa decided this month was the girliest.

She wasn't sure if she would describe it as "overcompensating". Usually that was applied to men, and since that was a label that Elsa wanted to avoid, Anna tried to be supportive. She knew that Elsa had been confused by Anna's interest in her, arguing that she couldn't identify as a lesbian if her lover-to-be didn't have a vagina. Or rather, she'd said as much tearfully after their fifth date, when Anna had cheekily stolen a kiss in her living room and Elsa had broken down and started crying about how much fun she'd had and what a nice person Anna was and how she hated lying to her. It'd taken a few more weeks for Anna to coax more out of her, and she'd slowly put the pieces together: a sobbing young boy going to his parents, clutching a doll to his thin chest, so much smaller than the other boys but already a head taller, saying that he didn't want to be Elton anymore; the sudden transfer to a private, all-boys school, where Elton wore navy blue khakis that revealed his skinny legs everyday as the boys bullied and jeered; the hidden women's fashion magazines under his standard issue bed; the group of old women at the local sewing club that Elton befriended, who grew up in a different time when men were men and women were women, who nodded to him over their bifocals and brought him cookies and sweets and lists of names to choose from, calling him their "little darling" who just needed some room to stretch _her_ wings; the trembling acceptance of her diploma, sent to her home by mail, where she was safe to open it; the strained hugs from her parents as they wished "Elton" goodbye and good luck; the arrival in a big city where she could wear dresses and high heels and no one would point and laugh at "Elton" being a freak; and then to the more recent present, where Anna was drunkenly crooning a lewd song to her while Elsa dragged her to her apartment, depositing her on a scruffy couch and informing her charge that yes, she'd stay, but no, not to "get jiggy with it", but because Anna's attempt at loading up on liquid courage should've ended about seven beers before. It was either the best one-night stand Anna had ever had or the worst: no sex, but she'd wound up with a girlfriend after all was said and done.

No sex. Again, problem!

It wasn't like Elsa's penis didn't work. Anna had seen ample evidence of that whenever she got up to the sound of her boss on the phone going on about "scoops" and "early bird gets the worm" and "I am your nemesis and you should call me evil names because you know you want to, Anna" or things like that. And since she had a penis Anna figured it was only a matter of time before Elsa would uncross those ungodly hot legs of hers and they would christen every single flat surface of her tiny apartment. She'd taken the batteries out of her vibrator the day Elsa's boxes had been dropped off, breathless with anticipation.

Elsa didn't bite.

Okay, fine: she'd wait until masturbation wasn't enough for her. Anna knew she was a hell of a lot hotter than "Jill", if Elsa's appreciative, if furtive, glances indicated, and she figured at some point she'd catch her in the act and then buh-bam! One-way ticket to Sex Town, population: 2.

Elsa didn't masturbate.

An impossibility just as confusing as a square circle, but she could be flexible. So very flexible.

The yoga mat still sat rolled up and leaning against the corner of her closet. Downward facing dog had not helped her at all, and she couldn't stand the sight of the useless thing anymore.

She'd even tried for a little phone sex. Just a little bit of meaningless conversation while she stroked herself to arousal, her little sighs and moans slowly growing in volume until even dense as a block of ice Elsa had realized what she was doing.

Elsa had panicked and accidentally set her on speakerphone, an action that had not helped her usual train anxiety. On the other hand, free high fives. Elsa hadn't found that very funny.

So here they were, or rather, here she was, staring at the hypnotically blinking black line, while Elsa was off in her little corner, probably affixing a tiny flag to the top because "flags are cool, Anna, I don't have to explain it". And certain parts of Anna were a little more upset than it was probably okay for them to be. Pandora kicked her into an ad.

"Shut up; I don't want to buy your stupid shoes," she groaned, dropping her head to the keyboard and rolling it around belligerently. She picked her head up when her forehead began to hurt, only somewhat amused to see her character count had increased tremendously.

"I'm not sure I can pronounce that; are you writing a story about Iceland's city life?" Elsa was leaning over her shoulder, her long hair draped over Anna's hoodie, the hint of chocolate on her breath stealing into the space between them. Anna's eyes narrowed as she filed that information away for later.

"Yeah, it's a post-modern take on how the effects of La Nina have been upsetting fishing along Iceland's coast, disturbing its trading relationship with Australia and forcing them to engage in increasingly radical nationalist town-naming sprees in order to drum up support for a land invasion. It's gonna be my big break."

"…Iceland is the one in the Northern Hemisphere."

"Journalist. Not geographer." Elsa hmmmed and withdrew. Anna scrubbed her forehead. She swiveled around in her chair and looked at her girlfriend, pulling both earbuds out. "What're you up to?" Elsa shrugged.

"Nothing, really. Just kinda bored." Elsa had an annoying habit of finishing work at work, when any modern city dweller knew that worktime was playtime and hometime was also playtime, except it was a little harder for your boss to catch you at home. She hoped. Oh God that was a terrifying thought.

"Hey, did you ever remember to put out the trash?"

She watched, amused, as Elsa's shoulders slumped guiltily. Wonderful girlfriend, really, but sometimes just a tad forgetful. Never in being attentive to (most of) her needs, but cleaning up used coffee grounds and orange peels? Yeah.

"Ah, no. I guess I'll go do that, then."

"Remember," Anna said, turning back to her computer, "I do the dishes, and you know I hate that."

"Just for the record," Elsa called over her shoulder, heading into the kitchen, "we do not actually own, and I quote, '8,000 salad plates'."

"Yeah, well," Anna grumbled, and squished the earpieces back in, wincing as she caught a few hairs. A new song was already playing. She blinked at the screen, confused for a minute, before comprehension set in, and she had a sudden idea. A sudden crazy, no good, idiotic and just plain silly idea. You know, the best kind.

The garbage bag crinkled as Elsa tied the top in a knot before hefting it with a soft, feminine grunt. Anna slowly peered around the doorframe, eyeing the young woman, particularly her backside, and coughed lightly.

"Yes?"

"Say, um, Elsa. You wouldn't happen to be free the rest of tonight, would you?"

"Yeah. Did you want to go somewhere?"

"No, just figured we could have a girl's night in; y'know, tea cozies and gin bottles, that sort of thing."

Elsa gave her a withering look. "I will not be responsible for your demise at the hands of a man shorter than you."

Anna threw up her hands in mock exasperation, so of course Elsa just smirked at her. "Oh come on! I already have-" she checked the screen "-seven words-wait seriously?"

Elsa didn't respond, already out the door. Anna chuckled to herself and rubbed her hands together. Sometimes she was just too good for words.

This plan required a little preparation. For once she was thankful they lived on the 16th floor and the elevator was a clunky, tired old box of bolts. It gave her time to get started. She clicked open a new tab to a time-honored site and began.

* * *

Elsa punched the button again and leaned back, and the elevator let out an exhausted groan and began to chug upward slowly. This would be right around the time where Anna would crack a joke about the gnomes on bikes sleeping on the job again, and how she was being rude for disturbing their sleep. Anna always called her "sassy", but there was definitely some spunk in Anna herself, not to mention a huge heaping dose of silliness.

She smoothed a hand over her mouth, noting her upturned lips. Thinking about her girlfriend (sometimes she was still stunned by that fact) had that welcome effect on her. That and other, less pleasant effects.

She looked down at her crossed arms, at the tops of her breasts, visible in the sharp V-neck shirt. Hans had made a disparaging comment about how she'd got it backward; it was "business up front, party in the back", and not the other way around, when she wore it to work along with a very modest skirt, one she'd swapped for a pair of jeans now. She'd imagined every step of hers that day was over his stupid face and those idiotic sideburns. He was probably right, in a way, but she liked wearing lowcut shirts: she'd claim it was for the confidence booster that being sexy brought, but really it was because she liked the sight of her breasts whenever she glanced down, so soft and feminine. If Anna heard the real reason, she might've gone quiet and adopted a patient posture in the way that she always did when Elsa stumbled through another explanation of her mind and how it related to her body, her accepting silence so comforting that Elsa just kept talking. It was nice not to be faced with someone who nodded and jumped in with "so why don't you get bottom surgery?" at the first hint of her…condition.

It wasn't like she was afraid of her genitalia, or hated the sight of it, or didn't like it at all. It just wasn't a vagina. Which is what true women had, true women like Anna. She'd grown up with it, because that's what boys are born with, and had been too young to really explore herself before she realized that, for all she loved playing with Legos and Erector sets, she had noticed a difference between her growing body and those of other boys. Other boys were getting taller and broader, and while she was shooting up, her voice remained higher, her limbs like sticks, and her nipples had become puffier and puffier. At the same time, the differences between the girls and the boys, besides their names and the clothes their parents gave them, had begun to show, and Elsa no longer felt like a tomboy: she now had to be a real boy, even as she watched the girls run off, giggling, away from the boys, while Elsa wished she could join them. Maybe her parents didn't let her grow her hair out, so she couldn't style it, but she saw them play around with their mother's and older sister's makeup kits, saw them bring in old magazines filched from the coffee table, saw them begin to wear jewelry and designer clothes and flirtatious expressions when they looked at the boys, and Elsa _wanted_.

Her parents had done their best, but it wasn't their fault: she was unfixable. She was the boy who grew up to be a woman, and whereas she was happy in that regard, she couldn't help but feel there were places where she was lacking. Or packing, as the case may be.

She shifted uncomfortably, her shoulder blades digging into the cool metal at her back. Okay, that might not be totally true either. Her body was entirely her own, it just wasn't all woman. No one who saw her walking down the street would think twice if she was wearing her cup, but if she took it off they'd stare, oh how they'd stare. She could be free and uninhibited at home with Anna, but not out in public.

Anna.

She had felt terrible, at first. Anna, poor thing, hadn't known anything about her besides "holy shit yours are the bessht boobs I've ever scheen" before serenading her in the karaoke bar to a Journey-Nickleback-AC/DC medley (she still wasn't sure how that worked). Elsa had laughed loudly in an uncharacteristic display of mirth, and Anna had winked at her over the microphone in what she probably thought was a smooth way, and that translated into real life as a drool-free seizure, before suddenly transitioning to a warbling, if passionate rendition of "I'll Cover You", and Elsa had felt her heart flutter. Screw flowers and romantic walks along the beach: if someone sang to her, her heart was theirs. She'd had an embarrassingly huge crush on Celine Dion for years for that exact reason.

And then came the reveal, where she cried and Anna stared before asking if someone had hurt her and how she was so sorry, she should've waited, and the both of them had been trying to calm down the other in what was probably the stupidest conversation of Elsa's life. It was worth it, though, because when she came out the other side, Anna was there, beaming at her, asking when she planned to move in so she could bug her boss for some free time, and did Elsa prefer coffee or tea in the morning? Elsa, being the rational one, had informed her that coffee was for the morning and tea for the afternoon, and Anna had laughed before shyly asking her if she could kiss her for real this time. Elsa hadn't wasted a second, just leaned in.

And yet she spent so much time leaning away. Not because she didn't function (Anna thought she spent her long showers cleaning her hair) or didn't desire (Elsa had once deliberately spilled a beer all over Anna's newest catch, a stunningly low-cut blouse and skin-tight black legging combo, because she knew that if Anna had put it on Elsa would be trying to take it off in seconds) or didn't know how things worked (she'd had sex ed; the wooden dowel goes in the wooden hole, okay?) but because of two big reasons.

She felt guilty and scared.

Guilty that she was something that was neither woman nor man, but some odd combination of both, and yet greedily clung to the term "woman", even if those chat boards were full of people talking about "bodily autonomy" and "identify as" and "socially designated" genders and how she didn't have to be afraid to be a woman. Scared because she knew that the instant Anna saw her without her clothes on, she'd come to the sudden realization that hey, that's right, she was a lesbian, and what on Earth was she _doing_ with Elsa in the first place?

So she hugged, and kissed, and held, and every time things got too carried away she'd invent an excuse to leave, to hide behind whatever lockable door she could find, knowing that Anna was just on the other side, waiting for her quietly, and yet unable to open the door herself.

The elevator doors twanged open, startling her. The sound had been a ding at one point, but she suspected a mouse infestation had changed that years ago.

She stepped out of the car and fished her keys out of her pocket, twirling them around a long finger as she strode down the hallway to their door. She unlocked the door and turned the knob, pushing the heavy door open with some difficulty. She toed her slippers off, leaving them by the front.

"Hey, so I was thinking maybe we could watch…" Her voice trailed off at the sight of Anna sitting dejectedly on her chair, hair out of her braids, one shoulder of her tank top drooping, one hand rubbing her shorts and the other her shoulder, bare foot dragging lightly across the carpet.

"Are you okay?"

Anna gave a heaving sigh and shook her head morosely. She looked at Elsa tiredly.

"I've been feeling done in." Elsa bit her lip and took a step forward.

"I'm sorry; is there something you want to talk about?"

Anna stood, rubbing her arms, as if to ward off a chill.

"I just can't win."

Elsa blanched; where had this come from? Her mind flashed back to her earlier thoughts, and she felt her stomach plummet.

"You…Anna, is there…"

Anna looked her dead in the eye. "We've only ever kissed before," she said, and there was something odd about the way she'd said it, almost…melodically?

"…well yes, and I'm sorry about that…"

"I thought there's no use getting, into heavy petting," Anna sang, walking forward, her hips swaying, and Elsa stared at her.

"It only leads to trouble and…" She dipped her hand beneath her shorts, cupped herself and rubbed, sighing as her eyes slipped closed, her head tilting back. She opened her eyes and grinned lavisciously. "…seat wetting."

Elsa's keys thumped on the floor.

"Now all I want to know," and now Anna was almost up to her, lifting her eyebrows suggestively, "is how to go," Elsa drew in a trembling breath as Anna strutted up to her, wrapping her arms around her neck and drawing close, "I've tasted you but I want more."

She leaned in to Elsa's ear and panted, "More, more, more," and Elsa had to bite her tongue to keep from repeating her words right back at her.

"I'll put up no resistance," she whispered, as she trailed her fingers down Elsa's chest, tapping at the buttons on her shirt.

"I want to stay the distance." Now she was dipping her fingers underneath Elsa's beltline, just a tease, dragging along the edge.

"I've got an _itch_ to scratch," she breathed, which was probably something Elsa should be doing too, as she dug her fingernails into the meat of Elsa's thigh, dangerously close to another part of her.

"I need assistance." Anna winked at her and drew back, holding Elsa's hands (when had she grabbed those?) and drawing her back into the apartment, into the bedroom, towards the bed. She dropped Elsa's hands, and they fell down against her front, and she flinched when they hit her prominent bulge.

"Toucha toucha touch me," Anna sang, crawling backward onto the bed, wiggling her shoulders and hips. "I wanna be dirty." Elsa heard someone make a pained whimper, but it was only the two of them. Anna crooked a finger at her, her nearly bare legs dangling off the side of the bed. "Thrill me, chill me, ful_fill_ me, oh you creature of the night."

Elsa was suddenly on the bed with her, hovering over her, her arms shaking with strain, but not fatigue. Anna slid her hands over Elsa's shoulders, to her chest, to the first of her buttons, sucking her lip into her mouth as she slowly popped one open. She was going to have a hard time with the rest of them; Elsa's breath had returned to her, in heaving form.

"Then if anything grows, while I repose…" At this Anna's other hand, the little devil, cupped Elsa's groin, and she gasped, shoving her hips forward, further into Anna's grasp, and her girlfriend wasted no time in pressing her palm against her erection.

Anna licked her lips. Elsa felt like she was either going to die or cum, and she had a very strong preference for one of them.

"I'll oil you up and drop you down." Anna surged upward, nipping at Elsa's neck briefly, sampling the damp skin, before again panting in her ear, "Down, down, _oh down…"_

"Guck," Elsa managed in response. Anna chuckled. She gave a squeeze and Elsa ripped her hand from the bed and fumbled frantically with her zipper, trying to ease the pounding pressure. She swore as she realized she'd forgotten the button, but blessed Anna was there with nimble fingers, and suddenly Elsa had that much more room to breathe.

"And that's just one small-well, _big -_fraction…" Anna tilted her head and kissed Elsa's neck, and Elsa began rolling her hips into Anna's touch, hissing under her breath. Oh God, she was done for.

"Of the main attraction…" Anna drew her shorts off with one hand, a feat Elsa should probably ask her about as soon as she remembered how to remember anything at all. She brought her hand underneath her underwear, closing her eyes and groaning as she touched herself, and Elsa gave a drawn out whine at the sight. Anna's fingers, considerably damper, reappeared, and she brought them to Elsa's lips. This was the best present she'd ever been given. Elsa immediately dipped her head and sucked them into her mouth, her hips jerking forward in response.

"Do you need a friendly hand?" Elsa's free hand flew to her mouth, holding Anna's in place so she could suck and nod fiercely at the same time. Her skin felt like it was blistering in the roiling heat in her veins.

"Well that's good," Anna purred, "because I need action."

Her fingers were clean. Elsa turned her head, releasing them and panted, "Oh God, yes, yes please."

"Well? You know how it goes. Aren't you going to join me?" She was smiling much too sweetly for someone who was actively driving Elsa insane.

"To-toucha-toucha…oh _fuck _ please just touch me!"

"I am, babe. But you're not touching me, are you?"

"C-can I?" Anna gave her a look. She looped her arms around Elsa's shoulders and rolled them over, and suddenly it was Elsa staring up while Anna stared down at her. Her normally teal eyes were almost black. She lowered herself down, and Elsa tried not to scream when the damp spots on their underwear connected. The sound came out of her as a trembling cry, which was the best she could ever hope for.

"Here's what's going to happen," Anna said, leaning back, but not before grinding down in what was a clear effort to remove every single thought from Elsa's head, "I'm going to strip, and you're going to watch, and if you want to do the same well…I wouldn't mind one damn bit. Okay?"

"Okay," Elsa whispered. Her body felt like it was frozen except for her penis, which was throbbing in angry need. Anna stepped back off of her, and Elsa quickly came to a sitting position, wondering if this was what it was like to lose a limb, but before she could share this idea with her girlfriend, Anna was smoothing her hands down her tank top and around her pantyline.

Elsa's mouth was suddenly dry. "I wanna eat you out," she blurted, and Anna grinned. "I love that idea, but I'm kinda interested in something else right now…" She gently pulled her panties down, revealing a gorgeous patch of trimmed pubic hair and flushed, glistening lips, and Elsa hardly realized what she was doing before her hands were at her chest, popping buttons open in time to the course of Anna's underwear over her beautiful legs. She didn't bother waiting to take her shirt off before she opened the clasp on her bra, loving the way Anna's eyes widened and she stroked a hand through her curls.

"Now the pants." Elsa obeyed hurriedly, almost cutting herself on the zipper, and the jeans crumpled to the floor.

She'd never been this naked with another person before. It felt simultaneously terrifying and achingly personal.

Anna stepped forward, still wearing her tank top, but Elsa's eyes were glued to her chest, at how her breasts moved far too uninhibited for her to be wearing a bra.

"Looks like we're in a Mexican standoff, eh? We've both only got one piece left."

"No," Elsa choked. "I give." And then she ripped her underwear off, revealing her naked penis to Anna.

Anna knelt between her legs, and Elsa thought her eyes would fall out of her head. "Y'know," Anna drawled, "you had an excellent idea just now: mind if I borrow it?"

"…what idea?"

Anna laughed, and kissed the head. Elsa shivered. Oh, that idea. "Yes, yes, please."

"And what're the magic words?"

"Toucha…toucha…touch me!" Anna licked up the base of her shaft, from the root to the tip, and Elsa's hand shot to her hair, fingers sinking into fiery strands, as Anna smirked up at her. "Need something?"

"Yes please oh my God," got her another slow, toe-curling lick, while "oh oh oh _fuck_ yes" had Anna sucking lightly on the head, fingers curling around the root of her shaft and tugging gently, and at "Anna, A-anna please!" she bent her head and took more into her mouth, tongue and fingers working together like the best team that ever was. Elsa collapsed against the bed and panted.

"You're brilliant, you're perfect, you're amazing…WHY DID YOU STOP?" Her voice cracked on the last word, staring desperately at her girlfriend, who was licking her lips. Anna shrugged.

"Because I thought we could fuck instead." Elsa's head fell back.

"Oh. That works too," she informed the ceiling, breathless. She heard Anna laugh before she straddled her hips. Elsa brought her hands to Anna's sides, gripping the edge of her top and pulling it over her head. Anna shook her hair back into place, and Elsa laid trembling hands on Anna's naked breasts. Oh wow. There was a God.

Anna laughed at her, but it was more of a light chuckle than a deep belly laugh; it seemed she was having the same trouble that Elsa was. She palmed Elsa's breasts like a reflection of her, and when she flicked a thumb over her erect nipples Elsa sucked in a quick breath and rolled them over.

"Please, please, God, can I?" She panted over her, gripping her hips hard, her own hips jerking slightly, so close to Anna's pussy that if she just thrust forward once…

She grunted at Anna's sudden grip on the base of her penis. "No."

"Wha-what? No? _No?_ But, but, I thought, I thought we…"

"You are way too wound up: if I let you go, you'll blow your load in a second, and I'd really rather you didn't."

"I wanna be dirty," Elsa whined. Her eyes widened. "N-not that you're dirty! I just…I just mean that-"

"I know what you mean, now shhhhh." Anna pulled her down, maneuvering her just above her entrance, groaning a little as Elsa's penis slid over her clitoris, sending a shiver running through her body. She pulled Elsa flush against her, which was _so_ not helping her calm down any, and kissed her.

Elsa thrust her tongue down inside Anna's mouth desperately, and Anna just kissed back so slowly and tenderly that eventually Elsa did the same, their hands stroking in order to soothe, not excite. Elsa tilted her head, sliding her tongue against Anna's, their nude bodies marking a sharp departure from kisses of the past, in a good way. She pulled back and smiled sheepishly at Anna.

"Sorry, I…kinda got worked up." Anna stole a quick kiss, clearly forgiving her. She released Elsa's erection, which, despite the slow treatment, hadn't flagged an inch, and nodded down at her mound. "You gonna get dirty?"

"Yes," Elsa breathed, and guided herself inside Anna, filling her with one swift push.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I-I….oh _shit_." Anna, glorious Anna, with her cute freckled skin and her dancing eyes and her ringing laugh, Anna was silk and steel and heat all at once all around her, and Elsa felt her legs shake. Anna groaned, mumbling something about "finally", but Elsa's heartbeat was roaring in her ears at a sudden realization.

"I-I oh no, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Naw, I got myself ready earlier." Anna bit her lip and wrapped her arms snugly around Elsa's back, and winked at her before drawing back and thrusting her hips experimentally. Elsa choked and matched her thrust with a far more forceful thrust of her own, making Anna's head lean back and her neck arch with a soft sigh. "_Fuck_ yes."

Elsa whined and began to move her hips slowly, trying not to go too fast, knowing that as soon as she sped up she'd never be able to stop. Anna let out another sigh.

"Elsa, I love you, you are amazing, but Ribs is bigger; do you want me to feel you tomorrow or what?"

She was going to break that fucking vibrator, but first…

Anna cried out and dug her fingernails into Elsa's back as Elsa slammed into her, barely pausing a moment before drawing back and slamming into her again.

"Oh YES, just like that, oh fuck!"

"Is this hard enough for you?" Elsa growled.

"So hard, so good, fuck yes, you're perfect."

Elsa groaned and dropped her head down for a kiss, which Anna returned instantly, their panting harsh when they parted.

"Touch me, touch me please Elsa, I need it…"

Elsa reached down and pressed her thumb down hard on Anna's clitoris, causing her to sob and move faster. Oh God she was really going to hurt tomorrow. The thought was thrilling in a dangerous way.

"I knew, I knew, I always wanted to…to touch you, and you to touch me, and _fuck yes _just like that just like that!"

"You knew," Elsa cried in reply. "Oh fuck I've been dying for you, I just…I was afraid…"

"No, never, no, wh-w-why be afraid; _I love you_."

Elsa's eyes widened, her mouth hanging open as she stared down at Anna's face, full of naked want and desperation and love.

"I'm…I'm gonna…I-I…" Anna pulled her so tight against her own body that Elsa's breasts slipped against hers, their stomachs sliding over one another.

"Oh God _do it!_ Fill me, just let go, fill me up, _fuck me_, Elsa!" Elsa was so close to crying she felt her eyelashes dampen. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to hang on for just that extra moment, her muscles straining as she held her own pleasure at bay, waiting, waiting, _waiting_, for-

Anna screamed as she came.

"You're beautiful, you're so beautiful, I love, I love-!" Elsa sobbed, still shoving frantically into her as Anna quaked through her orgasm, utter bliss written on her face.

She dropped her head to Anna's neck and shuddered, her wordless cry muffled against Anna's sweat-streaked flesh as she finally released. It was the culmination of months of desire packed inside years of regrets rolled up in dark looks and needy touches and aching denial, and it was perfect.

Anna held her as the tears slid soundlessly down her face, making shushing noises and running her fingers through her hair. After a long moment where Elsa struggled to regain her breath, she slowly rolled over, settling Anna against her chest. Her softening shaft slipped out of her, and both gave a shallow groan, for different reasons.

Anna reached her hand over her chest and grabbed the edge of the blanket, wrapping it around them as best she could, Elsa chuckling at her and helping her tuck it against them. "Well I'm not moving, so I hope you don't mind half a blanket."

"Not at all," Elsa murmured, and rubbed her girlfriend's back. Anna sighed and laid her head against Elsa's neck. Elsa swallowed and stared at the ceiling, marshaling her strength.

"Can…we do this again in the future? Not like the near future – I love you dearly, and seriously that was just amazing, but there's no way I'm moving anywhere for a while – but just…sometimes. Often. A lot."

"Mmmmhell yeah."

They lay in silence for some time, Elsa's fingertips drawing random designs on Anna's naked back, Anna's breath starting to whistle through her nose tellingly.

Elsa frowned. She'd just thought of something. "Should I have used a condom?"

"'M on the pill, remember?" Anna yawned, nuzzling into her chest.

"You're gay. What for?"

"Periods, mostly. You ever feel like eating a whole cake while you're nauseous, bloated, and you've got cramps like someone's kicking you in the kidneys?"

"…suddenly I'm glad I have a penis." She felt Anna's teeth against her skin as the girl smiled.

"That was kinda the whole point of this, so…"

Elsa tightened her grip around Anna's waist and kissed the top of her head. "I don't deserve you."

"Probably not. But in the meantime I'm pretty damn happy; how about you?"

Elsa laughed, shaking her head. "Great. I'm just great."


	2. Chapter 2

"You know, if you're interested, I think I've got a card of his in my purse I can give you," Irene offered.

Elsa beamed. "Would you? I mean, yes, I'd love that. Don't get me wrong: I love my firm, but…I've always wanted to work with glass, not stone and brick."

"Is there that much of a difference, building-wise? Or is it just aesthetics?"

"Oh, night and day!" Elsa gushed. "Actually, that's something that's kinda important, because…"

Irene leaned over to the side of the table as Elsa began talking about how different building materials exhibited different properties, including general strength, resistance to pressure, flexibility, and absorption of heat. Irene snagged her large black purse and straightened, dropping it on the little kitchen table, nodding to the increasingly excited girl across from her. Elsa, for all she was describing a large array of technical things, was using small words and gestures in place of jargon, and Irene chuckled as she zipped open her bag. She could see why Anna had fallen for her so quickly. Truth be told, she'd been nervous at the thought of her older daughter moving in with someone she had just barely known, at least at first.

Thankfully, Anna was there to change her mind.

Irene chuckled as she remembered how Anna adamantly defended her choice in girlfriends. "She's _amazing_ Mom, oh my God, you have no idea. Smarter than anyone I know – even you, all blasphemy aside – and snarky when she wants to be, and yet she can be so sweet, I can practically feel myself becoming diabetic just standing next to her….oh, um, yeah that's…kind of an Internet joke, see, it-nevermind. The point is: wowza! And yes yes _yes_ I know we've just met but I really want you to see her if that's okay? Say it's okay, please?"

She never could say no, after all.

She frowned at the mess inside her bag and began rifling through the various bulging pockets, pulling out a slew of alcohol wipes, pens of various shapes and colors, some Post-its, a few band-aids with superheroes or cats on them, and several movie ticket stubs before coming upon the card she was looking for. She heard a snicker and looked up. Elsa had trailed off and was now trying to conceal a smile, but her eyes were crinkled at the corners tellingly.

She quirked an eyebrow at the younger woman expectantly.

Elsa giggled into her hands. "That's just such a mom thing."

"I prefer to think of it as being prepared," Irene said dryly, nodding at the pair of sisters in the living room. The two ladies peered in to see the sisters draped, with appalling posture, over either end of the couch. They were tossing a hackysack back and forth as they argued about how "cool" Travolta looked while singing about his dream girl; Leah was fangirling hard, but Anna had yet to be convinced.

"He's got a car, of course he's cool! Not like you." Leah nudged her with a toe.

Her sister clearly disagreed. "My bike is a 10-speed, kid; I am _dripping_ with coolness."

Elsa blew out a breath. "I can't even begin to imagine what that was like, raising them. Anna alone must've been a handful. At least you had a bit of a breather between them." Irene almost chuckled at the delicate way she'd phrased that: a decade wasn't so much of a breather as an indication of something else, but she wouldn't give up Leah for the world.

Irene shrugged. "Bernard has informed me that we both must've been serial killers in our previous lives to deserve raising those hellhounds."

Elsa blinked. "…wow. What'd you say to that?"

"I said that I would have killed as many people as necessary to find my way into his heart."

Elsa gave her a deer-in-headlights look. "That's…sadistically romantic?"

"Ah, here we are, and here _you _are." Irene offered her the card with a flourish that reminded Elsa of a certain someone. She was just murmuring a quiet thanks as she took the card when Irene jumped. She laughed at herself under her breath before pulling her buzzing phone out.

"Hello? Oh, hi honey. Fine; we're still at Anna and Elsa's place."

Elsa leaned around the doorway and drew her hand across her throat in a "zip it" gesture, shushing at the still chattering pair, but Irene tapped her on the shoulder and shook her head. "I'm a mom, remember? This isn't even on my radar," she said, holding the phone away from her ear. In the living room Leah called out for Elsa to come give her input: she had decided that Elsa was clearly the smart one and so had spent a majority of the time peppering her with questions while Anna laughed at Elsa's look of strained patience and startled affection. Elsa meandered into the living room, glancing at the screen, where the car was riding off into the sky.

Upon her arrival to the room, Leah took one look at Elsa, at her conservative skirt and well pressed blouse, and informed her that she "still looked super professional", and Elsa gave her a tight smile and said that yes, that was true, she did look a little done up. Her smile turned into a real one when Leah said that it meant she and Anna didn't match at all. A tickle-fight to end all tickle-fights had ensued, with Leah making the most of her tiny size to zip around the apartment as Anna charged around after her, her arms raised menacingly.

"So what did you think?" Leah asked as she skidded to a halt, and Elsa blinked rapidly before she recalled the previous conversation. Anna banged into her now stationary sister, the pair of them squabbling as Elsa decided on her response.

Irene's expression went from attentive to troubled. "…oh shi….takki mushrooms, you're right. I hadn't even looked at the time. Leah!"

The girl ignored her mother's call, too interested in Elsa's opinion on leather jackets and big hair.

Elsa chuckled. "Well…I'm not really a big fan of black hair-"

"That's because she likey the redheads." Anna hissed in Leah's ear, and her sister rolled her eyes.

"…although my interest in gingers is waning fast, _Anna_," Elsa said. Glancing at Leah, she added, "Um, Leah, I think your mom was calling you, did you hear her?"

"Yeah. So?"

Elsa was suddenly very glad Anna was on the pill. Leah was a darling, but one she had to love from a distance.

"Up you go, you evil little squirt," Anna said, lifting her up by the armpits and walking her back to the kitchen as Leah giggled and called Anna a cheating big fat no good sister. She set her down on the tiles as Irene scooped the mess on the table back into her purse.

"Leah! I _just_ call-oh," Irene said as she turned to face her daughters. Leah looked up at her, the very picture of innocence, and Irene's lips twitched, and she shook her head. "Look, sweetie," she said, "I completely forgot about the time, so we're really going to have to run if we want to catch the earlier train back. You got all your things?"

Leah nodded proudly. "Yup!"

Irene lifted one eyebrow. "…you didn't even check."

"Don't need to."

"Go check." She swatted Leah on the butt lightly and the girl waved her hand in exasperation before wandering back into the living room. "And be sure to hurry up about it!" Leah's speed didn't change a hair. Elsa opened the door without comment, biting her lip against a grin.

The three women made their way to the elevator doors. Irene demanded that Elsa be sure to follow up on that reference as Elsa thanked her profusely. Anna leaned forward and tapped on the button, then turned and offered her arms to her mother. Irene just shook her head and pinched Anna's cheek. The girl mimed biting her hand before pulling her into a bear hug. Irene let out an "oof!" and patted Anna's back, chuckling. She released her daughter and stepped to the side, opening her arms wide.

Elsa hugged Irene and grinned when the woman dropped a kiss on her cheek. Irene pulled back and squeezed Elsa's hands. Leah barreled between them, sneering at Anna when she leaned around and made a rude gesture behind Irene's back.

Irene pulled back and smiled. "It was great seeing you two again, and I'm so glad Leah got a chance to meet you honey."

"Yeah, nice seeing you!" Leah was bouncing on her toes while waving at the pair from inside the car, and Elsa shyly waved back.

"Is three weeks from now still a go?" Irene asked.

Anna saluted her. "It is, Sarge."

"…right. See you two later; goodbye Elsa." Elsa grinned and waved again.

The doors clicked as they shut. Anna dropped her head back and groaned. "Ugh, finally!"

"Oh come on, I thought your little sister was cute. Chip off the old block, even."

"Not what I want to be talking about right now, Elsa." She pressed her back against the doors, pulling Elsa toward her by her beltloop. "Or, using my mouth for."

"Your mom is_ right _there." Elsa's traitorous hands were already on Anna's hips. Her girlfriend smirked at her and slung an arm around her neck, drawing her in.

"No, she's four floors below us. Come on, I have been good all day, I just want to jump your bones at least once, okay?" She dropped a quick, not-even-there kiss on Elsa's lips and snickered when Elsa made a frustrated noise and repeated the gesture.

"Jump my boner, you mean," Elsa murmured.

"Oooh, already?" She drummed her fingers against Elsa's side, enjoying the way it made Elsa shiver and lean in for another kiss. "Aw yeah, Anna, you still got it," Anna crowed when they parted.

Elsa chuckled against her lips. "You never lost it."

Twang. Elsa's eyes widened in dawning horror, and she hurriedly stepped backward.

The elevator doors creaked open as Anna whirled around, revealing an amused Irene with her hands clasped tightly over a squirming Leah's ears. Elsa briefly imagined melting into the floor. Irene cleared her throat. "Much as I enjoy hearing about your…loving relationship, girls, I was wondering just how to get down."

"You just…you have to press it twice," Elsa whispered, feeling more than a little breathless.

"Of course you do. Anyways, see you later," Irene said, lifting a hand to give them a little finger wave, her lips curled into a smirk. Leah banged on the buttons irritably, but not before giving the pair a breathless "bye guys!" as the doors rumbled closed again.

"Oh chill," Anna patted Elsa's cheek, the other woman still too stunned to move. "It's not like she's not seen me do worse."

"Wait, what do you mean worse…?" Elsa asked, feeling at once compelled and wary.

"Remind me to tell you about the time she walked in on me masturbating to Disney princess porn," Anna said over her shoulder as they made their way back. Elsa gaped at her as Anna pushed open the door, just barely catching it before it closed.

"Are…are you serious?" Elsa said. "Jesus Christ, Anna, that's sick." Anna turned around and laughed at her, waiting for her to catch up.

"There are two kinds of people in this world, Elsa," she said sagely, dragging her by the collar towards the couch, "those who admit to rubbing one out over cartoon characters, and those who lie."

"Well then I guess I'm a terrible liar," Elsa murmured, leaning over Anna as she reclined against the cushions, already licking her lips. She leaned down and breathed hotly against Anna's neck, making her shiver. Tilting her head, she could almost taste Anna's lips when she paused. She reached for her buzzing phone and spluttered when Anna "hmmphed" and pulled her down for a kiss. Elsa jerked her head back and turned away when Anna moved to chase her, saying, "Hang on, will you?"

She sat up and pulled her phone from her pocket, Anna slowly rising, giving her an exasperated look. "You're going to answer that now?"

"What if it's important?" Elsa asked, and hit the button. Anna imagined tossing the object in the microwave and setting it to "nuke". She growled in frustration.

"Oh, hi Mom, how's it going?"

"Nooooooooooo why…." Anna collapsed against the cushions.

"No, I'm not busy," Elsa said, the spitting image of an obedient child with the _worst timing in the world_.

"Yes you are," Anna answered, and Elsa just shook her head, returning her attention to the phone. "What's the problem?" Oh God _why_.

"My lack of sex is the problem, Elsa," Anna hissed. "Tell your mom that." Elsa covered the phone with her hand and shot her a poisonous glare that did absolutely nothing to deter her. She brought the phone back to her ear as Anna seethed and listened silently for a few moments.

"Oh, okay. Were you making bread? Okay. And what kind of yeast did you use?"

Anna groaned and threw her hands over her eyes. "I am being cock-blocked from across the country by a housewife who has never picked up 'The Joy of Cooking'; why, Elsa, why?" Her girlfriend ignored her, except to roll her eyes heavenward. Well, it wasn't like she didn't know how to distract people...

She sat up and inched her hand steadily closer to Elsa's groin and the other girl smacked it lightly. Pouting, Anna flung herself back against the couch cushions. She waited, gnawing on her lip, as Elsa continued to explain to her mother how some types of yeast required sugar to start, but others didn't, and she could just check online to see what she'd used.

Anna lifted her foot up and dug her toes into Elsa's ribs. Elsa jerked back, holding her side and frowning at her, but it was hard to take her seriously, seeing as her shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter. Anna played innocent for all the time it took for Elsa to let her guard down and then poked her again.

"Ahaha-stop! I thought you were all tickled out….oh no, sorry Mom, it's just Anna being needy. She's a stinker." She listened for a moment, then blinked and cocked her head, saying slowly, "Yeah, I can put you on speaker, hang on." Anna's eyes widened, and she waved her arms frantically, shaking her head adamantly, before Elsa placed her phone down on the table and pressed the button.

"...uh, hi, Mrs. Dillon, um, I guess it's nice to meet you? Well not meet-meet, since you're way over there, and we're here, but, uh, yeah. How's your not-bread coming? I guess it's not really coming, is it?" Wow, that was a Han Solo trying to bluff his way into an Imperial prison level of stupid. Elsa gave her a "what the hell?" look and Anna shrugged apologetically. It was fine for Elsa to love her parents, but Anna, who had had to pick up the pieces of the person they'd unknowingly shattered, had not been very interested in ever speaking to the in-laws.

The voice sounded a little muted, but still audible. "Yes, it's nice to meet you, Anna; I've heard a good deal about you. I understand you're a reporter?"

"Junior one, but yeah. Gotta use my art history major somehow, right? Heh. Um." Anna winced and stopped talking.

Elsa sighed and rubbed her forehead. "So anyways, Mom, about the bread…" The pair of them talked for a while, Elsa shoving Anna away at her insistent "I want to get _your _dough to rise, come on", Anna retaliating with the hackysack, because both she and Leah were very responsible with their things. This was so unfair! Clearly her mom and Elsa's mom had planned this. Granted, she couldn't ever see them sitting down to talk about it: after she'd very quietly explained to her mom about what subjects she should give a wide berth to and which ones were okay, Irene's lips had pulled into a thin line at the fact that Elsa's childhood was one such subject.

Elsa's mother gradually wrapped up the conversation, having committed her current cooking experiment to the fire, and her daughter sighed. "I hope that helped? she asked, rubbing her shoulder and shrugging. "I mean, I guess I can't fix things after it's been ruined, sorry."

Her mother made a noise of agreement. "I know, and that's perfectly fine, honey, I just wasn't sure if I could make things better. I guess I'd better go and see if I can make something else for dinner."

"Oh well, too bad. Nice meeting you though, Mrs. Dillon!" Anna chirped. Elsa rolled her eyes at her and flicked her cheek.

"Yes, goodbye Anna, it was very nice to speak to you. And…"

There was a long pause, during which Elsa and Anna exchanged confused looks. Elsa reached out and picked up the phone, intending to see if she'd lost the signal, when it crackled back to life.

"…goodbye, Elsa. I will talk to you later, okay sweetie?"

Elsa couldn't speak. She stared at the screen stupidly.

Anna glanced at her sharply before gently taking the phone from her limp grip. "Yeah, okay, thanks Mrs. Dillon, goodbye." She ended the call and replaced the phone on the table. The silence hung like a wet blanket over them, stifling Anna's short, clipped breaths as she stared into the distance, stunned. She wasn't sure that had actually just happened, or if it was a figment of her own hopeful imagination.

Elsa choked.

Anna jerked her head up to see Elsa with her hands pressed tightly over her mouth, her back shivering and tears welling in her eyes. Elsa shut her eyes tightly and Anna watched her cautiously, not sure if she wanted to be touched. Hesitantly, she smoothed a hand over Elsa's shoulder, and Elsa hurriedly gripped it. Anna could feel the tremors in her bones. Her fingertips started to throb: she ignored them completely.

"Hey," she whispered, and Elsa opened her watery eyes, looking at her, lines drawn across her face, "its okay. That's…that's what you've been wanting, right?"

Her girlfriend nodded and looked down at her lap, the action sending tears sliding down her face. She let go of her mouth, drawing in shaky breaths that cut through the silence like little slivers that felt like pain, even if Anna knew they weren't.

"Oh," Elsa gasped, "oh wow. I didn't…I didn't think…" Anna rubbed her back, and Elsa leaned gratefully against her, her tears trickling down Anna's neck. She hadn't released her other hand.

Anna nosed her hair, the hairs soft as silk against her. Elsa struggled to breathe, and Anna tugged her closer, rearranging herself around the other woman.

"She used your name." Anna said quietly. If she said it out loud maybe it'd actually start to feel real.

"Yeah," Elsa said, more like a short bark than a real word, her breath warm against Anna's neck. The other girl swallowed. "That…that was pretty cool, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Elsa said again. Her voice still trembled, but Anna heard the laughter in it moments before Elsa started to chuckle, her sides quivering. "That was definitely pretty cool."

"You know what's even cooler though, right?"

Elsa made an inquisitive noise, and Anna grinned, blinking quickly. Her eyelashes were wet for some reason.

"I'll bet your dad's kicking himself for not being the first to do that."

Elsa's chuckle was a lot thicker. "You think so?"

Anna kissed the top of her head, her eyes closing. She pictured a mantelpiece filled with pictures, at one end a couple, then a few baby photos, then a little boy proudly showing the camera his lumpy snowman, a bigger boy holding a baseball bat awkwardly, a lanky, tense teenager in uniform, and more and more photos that ended abruptly, as if the boy had simply died. She imagined an old, wrinkled hand, placing a final picture at the end, one where an older couple stood over a beautiful, confident, seated young woman, their hands gripping her shoulders as the three of them beamed.

"Yes, I do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I really hope no one is hoping for a plot, because you're not going to find any. Or quality, for that matter. This is, instead, what I do in place of actual work. I apologize in advance for that fact.

On a seemingly unrelated but actually not note: Bioshock is the first video game I ever played.

Also, if anyone's wondering about their last names: "Lillian" refers to the lily, which, as per the reference to "Imagine Me and You", means "I dare you to love me" (even if every website I've consulted seems to say otherwise; bad producers, bad!), whereas "Dillon"….well….a dill is a kind of pickle.

…I am so sorry. As you can see, half the time there's an actual importance to things, and half the time I'm just being a snarky little shit because I think it's funny. Also I haven't the faintest clue if anyone is in character anymore. Flynn in particular will be fun; again, half of this is just stuff that I thought of and went "that sounds dumb as fuck; I'm gonna write it". Anyways, here we go.

* * *

Elsa was feeling a little overdressed.

By all rights, mid-March should've still been chilly, especially near a large body of water ("…Elsa, I lived near Lake Ontario during high school. This is a pond. Literally.") but the sun was shining brightly, the birds had already returned, along with the walkers, joggers and kids with dogs and tennis balls and Frisbees, and despite the naked trees and cloudless sky, it felt like just another summer day. If summer came before the spring equinox, of course.

She shrugged out of her jacket, dropping it behind her on the blanket, while Anna rambled about her most recent story, something about tenancy rates in the theatre district, not really paying close attention but enjoying the sound of her voice. It was a lovely voice, a perfect backdrop to the sights and smells of a slowly wakening world. Sometimes she wished she could just sink down into Anna's voice and let it surround her fully in its warmth, infusing her with its enthusiasm and happiness. Letting Anna talk for hours was a similar experience.

Kristoff let out a huge yawn and shifted uncomfortably beside them. Apparently he didn't care for fresh air. "I don't see why you brought me here; we're going to have to go back in a half hour anyways. I was kinda hoping to catch a nap and just eat on the fly." The news van waited patiently in the nearby parking lot, the pair of fuzzy reindeer keychains dangling from the rearview mirror.

Elsa snorted. "Are you seriously sleepy? It's 1 o'clock. The sun's out: you should be wide awake."

"Didn't get much sleep last night," he muttered, scrubbing his neglected stubble as evidence. Elsa couldn't figure out how he could care so much about being clean shaven and yet not about the mop of hair on his head. Maybe it was a guy thing.

"Wesel-nose will totally write you up if he catches you drooling on any more of his precious equipment." Anna was digging through her backpack, pushing aside a bunch of notebooks, on the hunt for her food. Kristoff glared at the back of her head, crossing his arms petulantly.

"He would, but even if he yells at you, you're still employed. How come you get away with everything?"

Anna leaned back against Elsa's knees and batted her eyes at him. "Who, me?" He rolled his eyes as she took an enormous bite.

Elsa frowned at her. "Hey wait, that's _my_ sandwich…"

Anna stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend, one that was covered in peanut butter and fluffernutter, and chewed slowly. She jerked away when Elsa tried to rescue her food. "Nope, too late, I won it!" she tried to say, but it sounded more like "Npppppttthhhhhh". Oh well. Got the point across.

"Too late: she's got her icky girl-germs on it."

"I have girl-germs, too," Elsa said defensively.

Kristoff disagreed: "You're too clean to have germs." She chuckled and shook her head as Anna swallowed and made a noise that sounded like it hurt before choking out "too big" and hurriedly reaching for her water bottle. She took a couple of swigs, sucking in breaths in between each, leaning away whenever Elsa tried to grab her lunch, giggling at the other woman's expression, which was shifting rapidly from annoyance to amusement. Anna gasped and pointed at the group of ducklings that had converged on the tree roots nearby. "Oh my goodness, they're so cute! Elsa, can we keep one?"

Elsa shrugged. "Sure, if you can catch it."

Anna turned her torso around, giving her a look. "Elsa, how am I going to catch a duck?"

"I don't know: you're the one who wanted to."

"What, do I just sit down and go 'hey there, little ducky, you're so fine' and it'll just hop right into my hands?"

"…are you channeling Ernie from Sesame Street?"

Kristoff cleared his throat. Neither woman noticed.

"I wish. That's kinda one of my life's goals, to be reincarnated as a Muppet."

"You want to come back as a flimsy puppet with a person's hand up your ass?"

"No, I said a Muppet, not a politician."

Kristoff discreetly began pointing down at Anna's feet, but Anna was too busy snickering at her own joke to notice. Elsa huffed.

"Oh har har. What a funny joke. See how much I'm laughing?"

"It's nice you've found someone to vote for come next November, but some of us can't figure out which candidate to choose unless we've got a quarter, y'know what I mean?"

"Excuse me for actually possessing a civic mind."

"You're excused."

"You're lucky that I find you charming, in a bizarre way."

"I think what you're trying to say is-"

The duck struck.

Anna yelped at the sudden attack, jerking her head down at the little yellow puffball, which grabbed the second half of her sandwich and motored off before she could even move. She gaped after it, at a loss for words, as Elsa's knees started to shake. "Wha-? Are you serious?" The sneaky little thief was almost to the water. She shot to her feet.

"You-you, get back here with that, you foul son of a duck!" She sprinted after the little bird, which squawked and dropped the sandwich in the dirt, bolting away towards the roots of a large tree as Anna ran after it, cursing its parentage, its species, and its stupidly cute little body for moving so damn fast and oh shit this ground is hard and you get _back here you little…_

Elsa and Kristoff didn't see how the rest of the chase turned out; they were too busy laughing.

* * *

ERROR: CHECK TRAY.

She yanked open the tray and did not, to her credit, immediately scream upon finding it completely empty. She straightened and pressed the start button again.

ERROR: CHECK TRAY.

"I _have_ checked the tray, and it's empty, so will you just be nice to me for once?" She punched the button.

ERROR: CHECK TRAY.

Elsa briefly imagined the copier falling forty stories to its death. Her mental image may or may not have included an explosion that would make Michael Bay sigh with pleasure. A pity her office only went up to the 26th floor.

"Oh, there you are, Ms. Dillon!" She turned her head to see Mr. Marshall, the middle-aged version of a linebacker posing as her superior, fairly bursting out of his suit and tie, striding toward her with a blonde woman in tow. Her eyebrows rose. Working amidst a sea of men in blazers, ties, and jackets (if they were feeling particularly fancy), the woman in question stood out like a brilliantly pink sore thumb, examining her surroundings excitedly. She had a gauzy scarf wrapped around her slim shoulders, which admittedly matched her pencil skirt well, and her plump lips were pulled into an innocent, if extremely enthusiastic, smile. There was a tiny mole on one cheek.

She tried not to wilt outwardly. Oh, right: the new hire. The only other woman on her floor, besides the extremely cranky security guard, and therefore somehow her responsibility. Apparently it was impossible for men to show women around when they had the option of passing the buck to the nearest person in skirts.

"Allow me to introduce you to Ms. Charlotte La Bouff – I believe I mentioned she'd be starting this week? – so you two can get to know each other before she moves into the cubicle next to yours." The cubicle that Elsa had secretly colonized a few months before, sequestering snacks and little odds and ends that she'd need or want over the course of a day. That cubicle. She tried not to dislike Ms. La Bouff, but she was already more than a little grumpy, what with the copier situation, and so allowed herself just a single moment with which to be aggravated before she plastered a smile to her face that Ms. La Bouff returned immediately. "Perhaps you'd like to show her around?"

She offered Ms. La Bouff her hand and was the instant recipient of the most bone-shaking, ludicrously vigorous handshake she'd ever had, and she had Anna as a girlfriend.

"Oh my goodness, it's so nice to meet you!" the woman fairly belted in her face in a thick Southern accent, and Elsa felt whatever foolish spurt of bravery she'd had drop all the way to her feet. "I've been dying to come in; just sweating bullets when they told me I was about to start! I can't thank baby Jesus enough that there's another girl here – no offense, Mr. Marshall," she said in a much calmer, more demure tone, hardly missing a beat, as Elsa mouthed "what just happened", then continuing her avalanche of words with "And such a pretty lady, too! That jacket, those heels: honey, you have got it going _on._ Oh I know we're going to be the best of friends, aren't we? Tell me we are, please dearie."

"…okay?" Elsa whispered. It was part question, part reflexive defense, but the woman fairly exploded with happiness, releasing her hand after another few sharp pumps that Elsa was certain were designed to remove her arm from its socket. She swallowed hard and rotated her elbow surreptitiously, squinting against the woman's bright smile. "It's…it's very nice to meet you, too, Ms. La Bo-"

"Oh call me Lottie, please! Ms. La Bouff makes me sound like I'm thirty-five, and Heavens; that thought's terrifying! Bad enough it'll be true soon, but we all can dream, am I right?

Elsa glanced at Mr. Marshall for support, only to find him hurriedly retreating. She tried not to fume at his swiftly disappearing back, seeing as Ms. La Bouff was steadily inching closer. Apparently their definitions of "personal space" were somewhat at odds. She took a short step back and returned her manufactured smile to her face. "Ah, yes, and I suppose you can call me Elsa, then, if we're on a first name basis. Would you like to see the place…?"

"Oh _would_ I!" Yes, that would be the response, wouldn't it?

Elsa led Lottie through the floor, introducing her to the people there – here was Mr. Parr, who, if it was possible, was even more built than Mr. Marshall, quiet, with a steady stream of designs and ideas that Elsa particularly enjoyed, even if she was too nervous to say; there was Mr. Oaken, their resident European, who always had a good word for Elsa in the mornings and took an instant liking to Lottie, the pair of them talking so quickly in accents that spanned two continents, making Elsa's head spin as her mind tried desperately to keep up; and along came Hans, douchebag extraordinaire, sidling up to Lottie with his hand extended, a smug grin on his face, wearing another one of his power suits with what he considered a snappy tie as the outfit clincher, eager to find someone else to either suck up to, if it benefited him in any way, or someone to stand on during his inevitable climb to the top of the ladder. Lottie greeted him with just as much joy as she did the rest of the crew, and Elsa tried not to roll her eyes when Hans immediately directed the conversation to his own incredible exploits as another member of the company while Lottie nodded, looking almost thoughtful.

"Oh bless his heart, he's just trying so hard, isn't he?" she asked, and Elsa shuddered as she silently brought Lottie with her to her new cubicle. The woman gasped at the sight of the newly cleaned (and probably hastily vacuumed) cubicle that was hers now, and she spent a fair amount of time crowing over the lovely view and the excellent new desk and the comfy chair before plopping herself down in said chair and clapping her hands with delight.

Elsa sat in her own chair and pressed her palms together. "So," she said, "have you already met up with IT to get things set up on their end? We don't have our own phone lines here, it's not really necessary, but you will be needing your email address set up soon."

"Oh wow, do you think they'll give me an email address, then? That's just dandy!"

Elsa snickered at her joke; and to think she'd thought Lottie on the short list when it came to brains. "Yeah, it's pretty good. And a step up from when I first started: I was lucky to get the last rug and fire."

Lottie blinked slowly. "Um…that seems really inconvenient…?"

Elsa stared at her before awkwardly coughing into her fist. "Um…so, perhaps you'd like to visit IT next…?"

* * *

"Dinner's in the oven," were the first words she heard when she wearily pushed open the door, stepping out of her shoes and sinking her toes into the rug. She sighed and hung her bookbag up, not even bothering to take her laptop out, instead rolling her neck and groaning. It had been an incredibly long day, and Lottie had somehow managed to squeeze in a whole lifetime's worth of conversation while Elsa was still reeling. She had a hunch that Lottie had been a world-class swimmer or runner in college: there was no way a normal human being could talk like that for so long without passing out.

She stepped into the kitchen and noted the pizza box stuffed into the recycling section with a tired smile before moving on to the living room where Anna was lying on the couch, popping M&Ms into her mouth as she watched TV. Elsa glanced at the screen. "Happy Feet again? Aren't you getting sick of that?" Anna wordlessly shook her head, sitting up so Elsa could collapse next to her. She thought she saw a puff of dust arise when she did so but didn't have the energy to care. She dropped her head back against the cushions and exhaled slowly.

A hand entered her field of view, and she looked down to see Anna's palm and a bunch of blue M&Ms.

"I saved them for you." Elsa chuckled and accepted the present. "Thanks." She tossed them into her mouth, crunching slowly as she settled into the couch and just breathed.

Anna eyed her, her feet propped up on the coffee table, and slung her arm around Elsa's shoulders. She gratefully leaned into her touch, her girlfriend's warmth seeping into her even through the jacket.

"I'm guessing we're not going out tonight?" Oh, right: that's why she had been excited this morning, it was Friday, and they'd been planning on going out with Flynn to a few bars. Or maybe Eugenie: she wasn't sure what persona their friend was going to adopt until he, or she, showed up, wearing either a shirt and slacks or flamboyant makeup and Gucci knockoffs. They had met when Anna's wheedling had paid off and Elsa had gone with her to a gay bar; Flynn, or rather, Eugenie, as the elegantly dressed drag queen deemed herself, had taken one look at Elsa and declared the town not big enough for two queens, so she could be the queer while Elsa could be the queen, and Elsa had stammered out a confused "thank you?" while Eugenie waved her hand flippantly. She was a lot more offhanded with her words than Elsa was, but there was something liberating about it; even if Elsa could never attach the word to herself, because it felt too political, she could at least appreciate that Eugenie referred to herself as such without a hint of disrespect.

She dragged her fingers through her hair as Anna rubbed her back, and she hummed in pleasure before sighing. "Yeah, I'm not really feeling up to it," she said, hanging her head apologetically. "I know Flynn was looking forward to going out."

Anna shrugged. "It's okay; we can just have the weekend together instead of the night. 'Sides, we'll probably feel better for it, anyways. You want to do anything here tonight, or...?"

Elsa shook her head. "Honestly? I'd rather just go to bed early." Anna raised her eyebrows. "Sorry, it's just…I'm kinda tired." At Anna's head tilt, she scratched the back of her neck and admitted, "We have a new hire, and I'm the one who got stuck with seeing her around and…she's, uh…interesting."

"Oh? What's she like?"

Don't say blonde, don't say blonde, don't say blonde-

"Blonde," Elsa said, and clapped her hands over her face.

She lowered them to see Anna quivering at her side, eyes flicking between Elsa's own and her hair, lips white as she pressed them firmly against each other, though the ends were curled despite her best efforts to control her smile.

"I don't mean blonde in the _blonde_ way, just…she's kind of exuberant, and uh, maybe a bit scatterbrained, and very, very, _very_ happy to meet new people, and…uh…" This really wasn't helping her case any. Anna nodded slowly in response to her hasty not-explanation, her grin overtaking her face.

"Well," she said, her voice just a tad high, "doesn't she sound like fun? When do I get to meet her?"

Elsa pictured the pair of them in the same room together and a part of her brain broke.

Anna frowned at her. "What do you mean, there aren't any bomb shelters that you know of?"

* * *

Elsa whistled between her teeth as she pulled open the cabinet door, scanning the shelves before she came upon the powdered sugar. She pulled it out and placed it beside the bowl of already mixed ingredients that was waiting on the tabletop. It was nice to be cooking alone: there was something therapeutic, almost artistic, about blending ingredients together and watching what became of just a little creativity and talent, along with a lot of science and history behind it. And while it was all well and good to spend time with her girlfriend, she had gradually come to the realization that Anna, who believed that chocolate fell from the sky fully formed like manna, was slightly less than experienced in the kitchen, and thus it was generally up to Elsa to feed the pair of them. Not that it hadn't been loads of fun to teach Anna that yes, it was possible to make the delicious treat by hand. Even if the other woman had been a little too enthusiastic to really care about how this was done.

("It's just…it's just such a wonderful time to be alive," Anna sobbed into the electric mixer as she fed it chocolate chips, Elsa eyeing her strangely before carefully reaching around her to unplug the item.)

She couldn't get too caught up in her thoughts, though: the oven was already preheating, so she had to be quick if she was going to have the cookies ready when it dinged. Still whistling, she drew a finger down the recipe book and tapped it over the line where it described the icing, and measured some out before putting it in a smaller dish to the side. She turned back to the table and caught Anna with her finger inside the bowl, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, completely frozen. The other girl slowly drew her finger to her mouth and sucked the cookie dough off of it, eyes never leaving Elsa, who was pursing her lips and glaring at her girlfriend.

"That, she informed her testily, pointing at her with a dirty spoon, "has raw eggs in it, and I really hope you washed your hands before you-"

She was cut off when Anna yanked her finger out of her mouth and gave her a hard smooch before bolting out of the kitchen, giggling madly like the sinfully cute little leprechaun she was. She'd shake her wooden spoon at her, but both her hands were pressed against her lips, over her tiny, but growing smile.

Flynn swaggered into the room, glancing at the cookie cutters and bowl strewn across the table. He groaned and scrubbed his eyes, collapsing onto a stool dramatically. "Woman," he said, dropping his head to the island counter, "what are you doing to my poor kitchen?" His voice was muffled against the tiles. It was hardly fair of him to complain: she was well aware of the fact that he hadn't the faintest clue of what he actually owned and had a terrible habit of eating takeout for lunch and ramen for breakfast, with fast food dinners to top it all off. A little home-cooking never hurt anyone.

"I'm making cookies," she told him sweetly, and he looked up, intrigued. "Oooh, I like cookies. What kind?"

"Raisin oatmeal with bran flakes mixed in." He drooped instantly.

"She's lying: they're sugar cookies," came Anna's voice from the hallway.

_"You_ shouldn't know that," Elsa replied, as she scooped out a heaping spoonful and deposited it on the waiting wax paper, Flynn's eyes following her movements as he drooled. She shot him a look. "And you," she said, emphasizing the word, "are going to be very careful about how many you eat: if I catch you eating more than two in one sitting I'll call your mother."

"Oh come on; what's it going to take for me to have more than two cookies at one time?"

"Probably a cure for diabetes," Anna offered, clomping into the kitchen, now wearing her thick winter boots. They matched her short-shorts and T-shirt quite well. He grumbled about overbearing ninnies and scratched his goatee, dropping a quick "sorry" when Elsa glared at him for threatening the health and safety of her cookies with gross beard hairs. He tried to sneak a piece of dough into his mouth and whimpered when she smacked him with the spoon.

"Always at the mercy of cookware," he said, rubbing his hand, and watched her without further comment as she prepped the cookies for baking, finishing just in time for the thermometer to ding. Anna settled into the stool beside him, and Elsa turned back to see the pair of them sitting next to each other, chins in their hands, watching her with identical looks of want, though she suspected for different reasons, considering Flynn had a thing for big, strapping men and a crippling weakness for sweets, while Anna's eyes were lingering on Elsa's ass without the slightest hint of shame. She shook her head and began to clean the counter, putting the dirty dishes inside one another before sweeping up crumbs and excess flour.

"She's the perfect wife, isn't she?" Her girlfriend's voice was a mix of complete devotion and smug possessiveness; Elsa lifted at eyebrow at her, and Anna blew her a kiss.

He hummed his agreement. "Too bad that's not an option."

"Yeee-eeet," Anna sang, and bounced off the stool, taking the dishes Elsa offered her and depositing them in the full sink to soak. "C'mon, you were going to show me your new system," she said, tugging on Flynn's arm, leading him out of the room.

Elsa's pocket buzzed, and she pulled her phone out, glancing at the screen. "Dad" was calling her; she quickly flipped the phone open and brought it to her ear. "Hello?" The room was already beginning to fill with the delicious aroma of the baking cookies.

Two rooms over, she could hear Anna and Flynn collapsing onto the sofa as the TV clicked on.

"Oh, hello; I was just calling to check up on you. Your mother didn't get to call because she was wrapped up in planning her mother's birthday party, and we hadn't heard from you in a while."

She smiled and leaned back against the counter, twirling the end of her apron string around one finger in lieu of a cord. "Yeah, I heard from Uncle Ryan it's going to be something big; tell her I'm sorry I couldn't make it, okay?"

"Actually, that was something I wanted to talk about…"

"Oh?"

Anna's voice drifted in through the open doorway. "Oh man, I haven't played this game in forever!"

"I've got a game going midway through: you want to start over or go from there?" There was the sound of a game cover cracking open as Flynn spoke. "I have to warn you: it's on hard mode. I won't blame you if you chicken out. It's perfectly fine to be a coward."

"Are you kidding me? I'm totally ready for anything. I am readiness _personified_. 'Ready' is my middle name, in fact. I was born rea-"

"Got it; just hit the button already, my beard is turning white."

The phone crackled in her ear. "Sorry; went through a tunnel. Yeah, see, your mother and I were hoping that, because it's your grandmother's 75th, you'd be able to attend. We were planning on holding a reunion, too."

Elsa considered this, tapping her fingers on the counter as she glanced at the oven door, through which she could see the cookies puffing up.

Her family wasn't particularly religious, more the type that would attend church and Sunday school on one day of the week and not doing much else besides praying briefly over meals the rest of the time, so whereas she had certainly become accustomed to the Catholic faith and its teachings, she hadn't much background in actually practicing the religion. Her grandmother, on the other hand, was a staunch member of the faith, attending church at least three days out of seven, donating to various religious institutions associated with Catholicism, even on her slim pension, and insisting that "Elton" be confirmed before "he" went off on whatever silly little adventure away from home "he" was planning after graduation. Her view of Elsa, therefore, had been twisted and warped around a string of rosary beads and tight, worried eyes as she prayed for her only grandson.

Elsa loved her grandmother in the way that a child loves the Sun: she felt the warmth of her love, but only from afar; when up close, it burned against her skin, the love turning into something else that was less than enjoyable, or healthy, for that matter. She couldn't bear the thought of rejecting her parents, even if their actions put them in the same camp, or at least along the same spectrum, as their own parents, but she could beg leave of her financial situation to avoid visiting her grandmother, who lived even farther away than her parents did. As a result she had sent her many birthday cards in place of actually attending any of her parties, and the thought of doing so filled her with a sense of dread she couldn't express to her waiting father.

From the living room there came the sound of crashing and a high-pitched alarm.

"…hang on, that's bad. That's bad, right?" Anna sounded unsure.

"Why yes, alarms tend to be bad." Flynn sounded much more sure. He should know: his short-term career as a shoplifter in high school had included a crash course in what sounds to avoid.

"Could…" She swallowed around a lump and took a couple of deep breaths. Through the phone, she could hear her father waiting silently for her to continue. She frowned and opened her mouth. "I don't know if I have the money to spend for that." She hated lying to him, but sometimes the words felt better in her mouth than the truth.

"We'd be able to pay for that, since it's a special occasion." He paused for a moment as she wrapped her arm around herself nervously, and then continued. "Was there something you wanted…?"

"Could I take Anna with me?" she blurted out, before she could think better of it. "I know it'd cost more, but…I'd really like it…yeah." She closed her eyes and muttered curses under her breath as the phone went dead for several long moments.

The high-pitched alarm from the other room transitioned into a warbling trilling, accompanied by a series of gunshots and Anna's short, breathless screams.

"Oh come on, just-just use your plasmids; stop, stop…put the wrench down!"

"You can pry it from my cold, dead fingers!"

"Would she even want to come? I mean, it would be nice to finally meet her," he said, and even if his voice sounded a little strained it was the first time he'd ever expressed an interest in her girlfriend. Elsa pressed her hand to her mouth giddily and nodded. She smacked her hand to her forehead and said, "Yes, I…well I mean, I'd have to ask her, but I'm sure she'd love to come with me."

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

"Holy shit you _suck_."

"…um, am I hearing screaming?" her father asked, and Elsa cringed. "Yeah, that's…that's Anna."

"Uh, is she okay?"

"Yeah, we're just uh," she said, and bit her lip, "um, we're at…we're at a church retreat."

She pulled the phone away from her ear, holding it up and waiting a second for Anna to shout "Oh my God!" before returning it to her ear.

"…okay…" he said, sounding entirely unbelieving.

"ELSA HELP ME!"

She laughed. "Hang on, Dad, Anna's calling me." She dropped the phone to her chest and called through the doorway, "Okay, sweetie, what did you need?"

"I've run out of Eve for my plasmids and the splicers are all over my tail and I've set off alarms and-"

Flynn cursed impressively as Anna squealed, "oh _shit _I did NOT mean to shoot that Big Daddy _fuck me _fuck me God _damnit_…"

Elsa blinked. She slowly lifted the phone to her ear. "I'm going to need to call you back," she told her father, speaking clearly and calmly, "I think she's speaking in tongues."

"I'm not your grandmother, you know: you don't have to lie to me."

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah…"

He chuckled, and she remembered a time when she and her father spent hours playing with model boats and trains together, he showing her all the things his own father had shown him, how to get the sails to sit just right, how to paint the toy figures so that they appeared alive, how to salvage a wheel when she broke it in her enthusiasm, and smiled.

"But if you do need to go I won't keep you."

"Ah, no, not really. We're kind of just spending a lazy weekend together at a friend's house. Not doing anything exciting, really."

The sound of a machine gun and whimpers notwithstanding, of course.

"It's okay: I don't want to spend too much time on the phone while driving, anyways. I just needed to let you know so that we can work out details over email, okay? I'm certain your mother would agree to hosting Ms. Lillian, if she wants to come."

"I'll ask her," she said firmly. It'd be weird…no, it wouldn't be weird. She'd met Anna's parents, and now she was going to return the favor. It wouldn't be weird at all. Totally normal. "See you later, Dad."

There was a brief squeal of static, and she drew the phone away briefly, pulling it back quickly when he spoke.

"See you later, uh…honey." He sort of stumbled on the last word, but Elsa heard it perfectly. Her jaw dropped open, but before she could ask him about it he had hung up. She glanced down at the screen, still startled. It…it wasn't _quite_ the same as calling her his daughter, but then, he'd never called her by any endearment before, and there was something…

"Oh my God-_Sarcastic Jesus, take the wheel!"_

"I'm not going to-stop trying to give me the controller, you're going to fail on your own!"

"Yes, I _am_ oh God help meeeeeeeee…"

"Oh wow, look at all that blood. Hey Elsa, come look at all this blood!"

Elsa deliberately ignored him and checked the oven, where the cookies were just beginning to turn a lovely shade of golden-brown, and she licked her lips as she pulled on a pair of oven mitts. She smiled as she drew the cookies out, noting how they'd retained their shapes as snowflakes quite well. She began placing them on the rack as the sounds of bloodshed continued in the background.

She stopped and glanced down at her pocket, where her phone sat, and mulled over the previous conversation. Her father usually left the check-ins to her mother, and so she hadn't had a chance to see if her mother's recent acceptance had spread. In every other talk they'd had, though, he'd always made sure to say "goodbye Elton", so the fact that he hadn't was a good sign. Maybe even a step in the right direction. She allowed herself a small, quiet smile as she imagined a day when she could say goodbye and hear both her parents wishing Elsa a good night; a year ago, it had seemed like a crazy dream, but now…

She'd have to tell Anna. But not now, not when she was still unsure of what it meant herself.

There was a sudden silence. Elsa deemed that her cue to enter and, forgetting about silly things like "cooling" or "waiting" or "bake at hundreds of degrees", scooped the cookies onto a plate and headed for the living room.

"Look!" Flynn said excitedly, indicating the screen, which was displaying a rather gruesome image. Anna's slowly shaking head was in her hands, the controller tossed on the couch between them. "Anna made you a picture!"

Elsa settled her hand on her hip and cocked her head, examining the image. "Well," she began, "it _does_ have a lot of pretty colors to it, but I'm not sure of the significance. What were you trying to say?"

"I was just trying to save my ass," Anna mumbled, at the same time Flynn snidely declared that it was "modern art" and therefore well beyond Elsa's capability of understanding.

Elsa glared at him peevishly. "I am _not_ falling for this again, thank you." Anna looked up from her hands, confused, and Elsa blew out a long, hissing breath before reluctantly explaining that Flynn had once suckered her into watching a certain film on the grounds that it was a modernized version of George Orwell's famous novel. She'd made it to the scene where they shot the horse before she realized that "Animal Farm" and "Animal House" were not, in fact, related, nor was the rampant beer consumption a symbolic representation of the gluttonous bourgeoisie draining resources from the impoverished lower classes, despite what Flynn had claimed with all the sincerity of a priest.

Flynn was shaking with laughter as he gasped, "But you know what the best part was?" Elsa closed her eyes and tried not to grind her teeth. "She got so upset with me that she started taking _notes_ to prove me wrong."

"Oh no," Anna said, sighing, "please tell me you didn't, Elsa."

"Cookie?" she asked irritably. Anna happily accepted the still warm treat, instantly sinking her teeth into it and moaning in pain and pleasure.

"I'd like one," Flynn said expectantly.

Elsa sat between them and gave Anna the plate, thus securing forever her girlfriend's love and loyalty, while Flynn crossed his arms and pouted.

"Well fine then. Your turn?" He offered her the controller, and Elsa just gave him a look.

"Elsa's not good at video games," said Anna, who pronounced it "vi-ieo gaice" as she fanned the air in front of her mouth frantically. She gulped and shuddered, squirming in her seat, and Elsa brushed the crumbs off her lap. "So I set her up with the Sims, you know, see if she liked other games, but she stopped playing after only two hours."

"I wasn't aware it was possible to play for any period of time less than eight hours," Flynn admitted, crunching on his own cookie. Elsa blinked, startled, and jerked her head at the plate, where a cookie was missing. Wait, how did-

"Yeah, she set up a house with a pair of sisters – sisters or girlfriends? I don't remember – and at one point the game glitched, or maybe she did something by accident-"

"Oh sure, blame me," Elsa said, sniffing.

"-because the door to one sister's bedroom disappeared, and I couldn't figure out how to put it back, and Elsa just kept getting more and more upset because the Sim kept getting these little moodlets about how she was so _unhappy_ and _lonely_ and wanted to _be_ with someone, and she just rolled wish after wish to see her sister, but couldn't."

Flynn nodded and brushed his lips free of crumbs before taking a bite of a second cookie. Oh come on.

Elsa stole the plate from Anna's lap, ignoring her discontented squawking, determined to keep an eye on it. "And then," she said, "you restarted the game after it froze, and we had to remake the second sister, because her hair stopped working, and I just gave up and went back to Minecraft. I least I understand how_ that_ works."

"She's already built this enormous palace," Anna said between huge bites: she clearly hadn't learned from her experience from before. "Made out of diamond," she added, this time out of the corner of her mouth. Elsa could practically see the steam coming out of her.

"Ice," she corrected. Flynn tried to nonchalantly lean back against the couch, his arm coming up, and Elsa tapped her fingers against the plate edge in warning.

"Well yeah, but you can only use diamond, so…"

"I'm pretending its ice, because that makes it prettier." She glared at Flynn's hand as it edged closer to the cookies, and it retreated silently.

"It'd be a lot prettier if you'd just let me play with it," Anna fairly whined.

"I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop sneaking onto my account and planting flowers in my ice palace."

"Look, it's beautiful, but it'd be so much nicer with a bit of color, you know? Like reds, and greens, and blues…"

She made a face. "That just doesn't work with ice. Ice is supposed to be iridescent: it _produces_ the colors by itself."

"Yeah, except not in like 8-bit blocks."

At her side, Flynn gave a heaving sigh and shook his head in resignation. "Listen, I didn't want to have to do this, but…here it comes." Flynn tilted his head and pinned Elsa to the couch with his puppy dog eyes, and she felt her resolve shrivel up against the onslaught of adorableness, he only relenting with a happy little noise when she sighed and handed him a cookie.

Life just wasn't fair.


End file.
